


a good look

by Lake (beyond_belief)



Category: Jonas Brothers
Genre: Crossdressing Kink, Lingerie, M/M, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-17
Updated: 2019-09-17
Packaged: 2020-10-20 15:29:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20677679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beyond_belief/pseuds/Lake
Summary: "Do it, Joe. I dare you. Put it on."





	a good look

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote most of this ten years ago and scrubbed it up last night in honor of watching Chasing Happiness. Is Nick underage in this? I'm not sure. Why/how are we on this train again, I don't know, I have to see these idiots' faces in person in less than twelve hours.

It's obviously expensive, and Nick is sure that Joe only thinks about what he's doing for a second before picking up the satin-lace-satin slip of a thing that has just landed on the stage. He sees Joe wink in the direction it came from and tuck it in his back pocket, like he can't help but go off the board for once and not pretend he doesn't see it. Nick rolls his eyes, and is glad their parents aren't at this particular show.

He knows that Joe completely forgets that he's got it until they're in the hotel later, when Nick leans his hip against the bathroom counter and smirks and says, "Put it on."

"What?" Joe asks, his eyes wide.

"Put it on," Nick repeats, the bra-camisole-thing dangling from his fingertips. He snagged it straight from Joe's pocket after the show. "Do it, Joe. I dare you. Put it on."

Joe snatches it from his hand. "You dare me?"

Nick wiggles his eyebrows. "I'll get some socks for the bra bit," he suggests, and Joe punches him hard in the arm. It hurts. "Ow, you jerk. Don't be a pussy. Put it on."

Joe pulls his thin white t-shirt over his head. "Why am I doing this?" he mutters, sighing, untangling the camisole's straps.

"You're doing it because I told you to." And Nick knows that is reason enough for Joe to do most things, although he's not quite sure why he picked tonight, picked this, to push a boundary he still wasn't a hundred percent sure he wanted to push.

Joe slips it awkwardly over his head, all light purple sheer stuff and tangled ribbons, the bra cups a darker satin with lace edging. It stops just at the top of his jeans, and he fiddles with it. "It feels weird."

"Hold on a second," Nick manages to whisper through his suddenly dry mouth. He dashes into their room and finds two pairs of balled-up socks in the clean clothes bag. He brings them into the bathroom and holds them up, showing them to Joe in the mirror.

"Come on," Joe whines, shaking his head.

"Fine, I'll do it," Nick says, and reaches around his mostly unresisting brother to tuck the socks into the bra. It's not too low-cut and the socks disappear inside, enough to hold the shape but not looking entirely like hosiery masquerading as breasts.

Joe's voice is low when he says, "Nicky, what..." and Nick looks up, meeting Joe's gaze in the reflection. Joe's hair is a mess, falling down over his forehead, his face is flushed and the straps keep slipping off his shoulders. Nick lifts one back up, then skims his hand down over Joe's arm.

"You look amazing," he whispers, and it's the truth. The color just _works_ on Joe, the eggplant closer to his face and the sheer sort of lilac covering his flat belly. Through it, Nick can see the trail of hair disappearing into Joe's jeans. He swallows. "Really, I'm not just messing."

Joe hums under his breath and turns from side to side. "It feels less weird than before, I guess," he admits. He runs his hands over the material and Nick has to back up, away from Joe, before it becomes obvious to his brother that he's getting hard. But Joe's not stupid, not when it comes to Nick, never has been, and his gaze immediately snaps up to Nick's. "What is it? You look... you actually like this," he states. It's not a question.

"Yeah," Nick breathes, because he owes Joe the truth. "I think you need the whole set, though."

"Sorry, this was all that made it to stage tonight."

"Oh, I think I have something."

"What?" Joe follows him out of the bathroom. "Don't tell me there's girls panties in your bag, Nicholas."

"There are, actually. From a similar situation. Although," here he pauses to smirk at Joe again, "I never put them on or anything."

From an inside pocket he pulls the cranberry-colored hiphuggers, the satin slipping between his fingers. Joe shakes his head. "I think that clashes, you know."

"Do it." Nick's cock throbs at the thought, and he feels his cheeks flame.

Glaring, Joe unbuttons and unzips his jeans, shoves them off along with his boxer-briefs. Nick watches, knowing his gaze is hungry. He's not just pushing these boundaries tonight, he's stepping right over them. He knows he's looking at Joe in a way he's never let Joe catch him looking before.

Joe snatches the panties away from him and steps into them, tugs them up, and adjusts his plainly obvious erection. The panties are tight to his skin and his hard-on is no less obvious once it's beneath the satin. "Ohgod," he gasps, and Nick doesn't miss how Joe lets his hand drag over his cock. There's no way he could look away from this right now. "This shouldn't feel so good," Joe murmurs. The expression on his face is conflicted. "Nick, I don't..."

"It's okay if you like it, I won't tell anyone," Nick answers, and he would never tell a soul. "I like it, too."

He reaches out and grabs the hand Joe still has pressed to his crotch, lifts it to his face and kisses the palm. "Nick," Joe chokes out, sounding hopelessly strangled, "what - what are you doing?"

Nick knows he's asking because this sudden heat and electricity between them is even more frowned upon than the clothing Joe is wearing, but in this moment, he doesn't care. And he knows that if Joe thought it was wrong, he never would have put on the camisole in the first place, much less let Nick stare at his cock while he'd stepped into the panties.

"This," Nick answers, and shoves Joe hard, down onto the bed.


End file.
